


In Memoriam

by enemytosleep



Series: Wrong Turn 'verse [16]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Bar Fic, Gen, Grieving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-08
Updated: 2011-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 19:22:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enemytosleep/pseuds/enemytosleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles remembers his fallen commander.  </p>
            </blockquote>





	In Memoriam

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bob_fish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bob_fish/gifts).



> Written for a drabble meme a few months ago for the prompt: _Badass_. I've finally cleaned it up and reposted. As [](http://bob-fish.livejournal.com/profile)[**bob_fish**](http://bob-fish.livejournal.com/) gave the prompt, I went ahead and wrote in within her Wrong Turn 'verse, sometime shortly after [Curtain Call](http://bob-fish.livejournal.com/33203.html).

Miles took his usual seat at the far end of the bar, his outer jacket unbuttoned, but still on. With a heavy sigh, he propped his elbows on the counter and scrubbed his thumbs over his sideburns. The barkeep plopped a cup of hot water in front of him, the usual stale black tea floating at the top in its little sack. Miles grunted his thanks as he always did. As he used his spoon to submerge the tea, the barkeep stopped wiping the empty pint in his hand and gave Miles a careful look.

"Everythin' all right with ya?" the bartender asked, which was abnormally considerate of the man.

Miles exhaled through his nose, then said, "Yes and no. It's fine."

"Well, if ya don't mind me sayin' so, yer lookin' more the 'no' right now - and I've seen ma share of grim faces in here."

Miles laughed weakly and swirled his steeping tea with slow twists of his wrist. "It's complicated."

"As most things usually are. Go on and try me if you care."

He'd never been one for sharing, but this was probably the last time he'd be in this old bar, sitting in this seat. Whether it was simply sentimentality or an overexertion of his emotional wires, Miles found himself telling the man about the Major General - now a post-humous Lieutenant General - and his recent transfer to Central under Mustang, forerunner of the New Party. He'd only come back north to gather his belongings and move his family to Central, and then he learned it was only his belongings that were coming with him.

"And that's when she told me she was leaving me," Miles finished. He scooped the tea bag from his cup and placed it and the spoon straight on the bar counter.

"Well, that sure seems a reason to be down."

"I guess so." He'd felt blind-sided in the moment, but the more he thought about it, the more guilt set in: the signs he'd missed, the signals he'd ignored. Briggs wasn't a safe place, but it had, for the most part, been somewhat predictable. It took care of itself and didn't worry about things that didn't affect the Wall. All of that had changed when the Elrics had appeared at their front door, when they all began to realize what sordid shape Amestris had taken on.

Things were supposed to get better now. It was an awful time to quit.

"Tell ya what, this one's on me." Miles looked up to see a large mug of the late general's favorite spirit placed before him. "It'll help clear yer head some."

"Thanks," he said, though he'd no intention of touching it. It was a past-time of the general's to hold a war council with her top men, then get drunk and have them do the same. He wasn't much of a drinker to begin with, but the shit they brewed up here could strip a car engine.

 _"You always did drink tea like a proper young lady,"_ he could hear her say. _"Grow some balls and have a drink!"_

Either he was really losing it, or - well, he was probably losing it, but it seemed a good night to drink in honor of the Queen of Briggs. He lifted the glass, spotted with dried dishwater, and saluted at nothing in particular before downing his first parching sip.

_Here's to you. And growing balls._


End file.
